


Thin as Thieves

by batwayneman



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Heist, bruce isn’t actually a character but he’s there in spirit, cattiness (now with plot!), his relationship with both women is talked about but doesn’t HAPPEN in the fic, rated Mature for black mask’s potty mouth and misogyny, rivals working together for their own selfish purposes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24851506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batwayneman/pseuds/batwayneman
Summary: Talia thought it would be a simple mission, until the thief showed up and ruined her night.Selina intended to have a quiet night on the town, until the ex-girlfriend showed up.They didn’t want to work together, but it’s amazing what a common enemy will do.
Comments: 24
Kudos: 30





	1. Talia

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! I’ve been working on this story off an on for a year, so I’m really excited to publish it. A quick note first:
> 
> My version of Talia did not sexually assault Bruce. It doesn’t come up in the story at all, and it doesn’t matter to me if you prefer Damian’s canonical conception, but I just want to preemptively clear up any confusion. 
> 
> Oh! Also, I think both Selina and Talia are great! The character’s perceptions of each other are not mine.
> 
> The next chapter is already done, just needs editing, so it should be up in like a week.

Gotham was remarkably ugly.

Talia knew it was probably unfair to judge the city so harshly within the first hour of being there. Still, no matter how many times she visited Gotham, the bleak gaudiness always seemed worse than she remembered.

She shifted her weight, her gaze moving to the clutter around her feet. Old, half-rotten pages from a newspaper drifted to her right, sweeping old receipts and dozens of cigarette butts with it, swirling out of the alley.

Ugly.

She looked away from the trash, watching the street in front of her for movement.

Batman would be here soon; he had never made her wait for long when she came to his city. And she had already been in Gotham for nearly an hour — it was only a matter of time. She had half expected him to show up as soon as she left her guard, heading south towards the heart of the city. Instead, she had made her way uninterrupted, through the crowds that clogged the streets and sidewalks, even as dusk fell, and the air grew cooler.

These people, unlike at home, did not part or acknowledge her, and more than once she had to move out of the way herself to avoid a collision. In plain black pants and a long flowing jacket, no one looked twice at her or considered that she might be dangerous. It was irritating, but it was more important that no one noticed the sword she had sheathed in the folds of her clothes.

She had ducked into an alley that was sheltered from the hustle of the crowds, though she could still hear their voices from the other side of the buildings. The sun had set in the time it took her to walk to this alley, but the sky was still a dusky purple-grey, not quite dark. The buildings stretched across the sky like black bars trying to block out the sky – like a dense forest canopy but with none of the charm or security. She felt a brief pang of longing for the wilderness; at this point, she would take anything.

She blew out her breath, looking up at the towering buildings, trying to convince herself that the butterflies in her stomach weren’t real. There was no reason for her to feel anxious to see Bruce.

Well. There was one extremely significant reason, but he didn’t know about that.

This wouldn’t be the first time she had seen Bruce since Damian had been born, but – to her eternal frustration – it had not gotten easier. She would undoubtedly see something in him that reminded her of Damian, the twitch of an eyebrow, or the same intense glare when they were concentrating, and she would have to brace herself to hide a shiver.

She pushed the thoughts aside with a heavy shove. She had already decided that she would tell Bruce when Damian was older. It was too late to change her plan now; even if seeing Bruce meant facing the sharp barbs that seemed to tighten around her heart when he crossed her mind.

It didn’t matter. Bruce would show up, help her with the mission that had brought her here, and then she would go home.

“Whatcha doing?”

It was only a lifetime of training that kept Talia from jumping out of her skin at the sound of a woman’s voice coming from behind her. As it was, she flinched and spun around, drawing her sword in one smooth motion.

The first thing that Talia noticed was that the woman’s hands were empty of a weapon where they were crossed in front of her chest. There were no swords or guns at her side. Instead, there was a coiled rope attached to her hip, thicker near the handle that tapered thin. A bullwhip.

Satisfied at the lack of immediate threat, Talia’s eyes traced their way back up the woman’s body. She was leaning casually against the fire-escape, dressed in all black, though the woman’s clothes were skintight from her neck to her feet. Red sheer goggles covered her eyes beneath her helmet, which looked too thin to offer any actual protection, and had cat ears moulded to the top.

“Catwoman,” Talia said tersely. She didn’t lower her sword. The League may not be particularly active in Gotham anymore, but Talia had made sure to stay knowledgeable about what was going on in the city. It was easy to justify her research for the rogues whose circle of influence went beyond Gotham, but her motivations for others were murkier. Catwoman in particular had given her reason to pay attention.

She was not happy to see Bruce’s rumoured girlfriend before she saw him.

“That’s me, but it doesn’t answer who _you_ are.” Catwoman stepped forward with a sly smile, apparently unconcerned about the sword pointing at her chest.

Talia frowned, but didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure how much Catwoman knew about the League of Assassins, or Talia herself.

Or her past relationship with Bruce.

“We don’t see many League of Assassin agents around here anymore,” Catwoman said, smile growing as she took another step closer. “You didn’t do a very good job covering your tracks, rookie,” she shook her head.

“I think you’ll find I’m quite well trained,” Talia hissed, hiding her own satisfaction.

Catwoman didn’t know who she was, or at least didn’t know enough to recognize her. Bruce hadn’t revealed all of her secrets. At least she could hold onto that advantage.

“So, where are the rest of you? Don’t you hunt in packs or something? Oh —” she reached forward and pushed the tip of the sword to the side as she leaned it —“did you get lost? I’d be _happy_ to show you around.”

Too close. She was too close.

She flicked her wrist and turned the sword around, thrusting the butt of the sword forward. To her surprise, Catwoman got her hands up in time to block the blow, but she was still forced backwards. Talia could see her eyes widen. She pressed her advantage, bringing the sword’s blade in front of her again, forcing Catwoman against the wall.

“I am Talia al Ghul of the League of Assassins. Daughter of the Demon and master swordsman,” she snapped, “and I am _not_ lost.”

Catwoman glanced down, eyeing the point of her sword, perhaps only now recognizing the danger in the sharp metal.

Unfortunately, but impressively, she recovered quickly, recrossing her arms in front of her chest and scowling.

“Then why are you here?” she taunted, thrusting out her chin.

Talia pushed her lips together tightly as they glared at each other. She hated the idea of asking for help, especially to this woman of all people, but she was no closer to accomplishing her mission as she had been when she arrived, and the night would only last so long.

She bit back a sigh. It would be childish to not use a potential informant.

“I’m here for Batman. Where is he?” she demanded.

Something in Catwoman’s expression flickered, and Talia's heart sank.

“You mean you don’t know? A little out of the loop, aren’t you?” Catwoman crooned, a Cheshire smile of barred teeth, “you can wait for him in this alley all night if you want, he’s not in Gotham,” she laughed, a shrill cackle, “He’s not even on Earth — he’s with the Justice League tonight.”

It took barely a second for the words to sink in, turning all of Talia’s muscles to stone.

“I don’t believe you,” she snapped. Of course Catwoman wouldn’t tell her where her boyfriend was.

Catwoman moved to reach for her whip, but Talia jumped back. In one motion she sheathed her sword and leapt in the air, catching the railing of the fire escape and pulling herself up with both hands.

Crouched and balancing on the balls of her feet, she looked over her shoulder at the woman behind her. Catwoman had uncoiled her whip, but held it loosely at her side, looking at Talia. She couldn’t read her expression.

“Do not follow me,” Talia ordered and before Catwoman could say anything she turned, scaling the fire escape.

She didn’t stop until she was halfway up the building. When she paused to look down, the alley below her was empty.

Talia kept climbing, jumping across to the other side’s fire escape. As soon as she reached the roof she took off at a sprint, wind whipping around her, pushing her back. She ran to the edge of the roof and leapt over the edge, barely registering the street and cars so far below her before she landed with a neat tuck on the other side and kept running.

With every step, her stomach sunk lower and lower, the butterflies turning to stones. As much as she hated to admit it, every second she spent in the city without Bruce showing up made it more and more likely Catwoman was telling the truth.

Gotham became a blur of rooftops and ledges, the damp breeze coming in over the water, chilling her skin. It did nothing to cool the smouldering coal of anger and bitterness in her chest.

She knew, logically, that she had no right to his time or help. But his absence was still a letdown, like missing a step going downstairs. They’d both let each other down over the years, but this one stung. He wasn’t even _here_.

And it was so much worse that she was hearing it from his girlfriend.

It wasn’t that she was naive; she knew that Bruce had had partners after her, just as she had had partners after him. But the reminder still felt like a slap in the face, particularly when that reminder herself was so smug about it. It was irrational, but undeniable.

She stopped her rooftop run and paused on top of a roof for a minute. She took a few deep breaths, trying to force the half-formed flashes of jealousy and anger from her mind.

The city was quieter now, any sounds from the street below her muffled from the distance. In her flight from Catwoman she hadn’t paid much attention to where she was going, only thinking of one last desperate attempt to catch the attention of Bruce.

She was in a different part of the city – the buildings were farther apart here, old stone mixing with boxy metal and glass. She remembered Bruce telling her once about a part of the island that was more sheltered from the storms, so the rich had invested in the land that would need fewer repairs, leaving the damaged parts to the people who wouldn’t be able to afford to repair it.

She looked down over the edge of the roof. And old stone gargoyle looked up at her, eyes bulging grotesquely. She stepped back.

For years now, she had tried to understand what it was about this city that had captured Bruce’s attention so completely. He had tried to explain once, in sentence fragments and sleepy mumbled words, that it could be better than it was, that it was something worth saving. As far as she could see, it had never done anything to warrant such optimism.

It wasn’t their main argument, but it was easier to talk about than their other disagreements, so they went to the city most often.

Maybe it wasn’t so much a dislike of the city as much as it was resentment of it.

The soft sound of gravel crunching, barely perceptible over the wind, interrupted her thoughts. She doubted she would have been able to hear it if she hadn’t been listening for it.

Talia turned around.

“Believe me yet?” Catwoman asked merrily. She had her whip out, the end trailing on the ground, but had left more distance between them this time.

“When will Batman return?” Talia asked instead of answering.

“That’s always the billion-dollar question, isn’t it,” Catwoman scoffed. She looked down for a second before seeming to catch herself and looked up. “What do you want with him anyway?”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“Well, it kinda is now, after the whole ‘sword to the throat’ thing. Besides, haven’t you ever heard about what they say about cats and curiosity?” she trailed off with a sharp grin.

Talia suppressed a sigh.

“C’mon,” Catwoman purred, “what is it? Must be _juicy_ for you to trek all the way out here. Maybe I could help?” she said, in the tone of a woman who was more prone to sabotage.

“I don’t need your help dealing with a gangster in a cheap mask,” Talia said, forcing back the sharpness in her tone. Trying to communicate with Catwoman and her lilting mocking voice was exhausting. “If you don’t –”

“Which gangster? Black Mask?” Catwoman interrupted, and Talia was surprised by the sudden edge to her voice.

“Why does it matter to you?” She was after Black Mask, but she couldn’t imagine why Catwoman would care about that.

“I’m going to help you,” Catwoman said, spooling up her whip and putting it back on her belt.

“What?” Talia stared at her, reeling at the sudden change in conversation, “No, I don’t need your help.”

“Where is Black Mask? Is he guarded? What kind of guards? Are they trained?” With every question, Catwoman took another step until she was standing in front of Talia. “If you start wandering around Gotham sniffing around, he’s going to disappear like _that_ ,” she snapped her fingers in Talia’s face, “Face it princess, if you actually care about getting to Black Mask, you need me.”

Talia stared at her. Something had changed in Catwoman, tension that wasn’t there before was tightening her body, and angry fire in her eyes. Even her voice had lost its mocking edge. Talia still didn’t trust her at all, didn’t understand what would cause this miraculous change in motivations, to go from nuisance to being adamant about helping.

But she couldn’t deny that Catwoman had knowledge of the inner workings of Gotham that she usually relied on Bruce for. As much as she hated the idea of working with her, she hated the idea of leaving Gotham without finishing her mission much worse.

“Fine,” she ground out, “where is Black Mask then?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” Catwoman said cheerily, “but I know where to find someone who does. Let’s go.”

Catwoman brushed past her and did a handstand on the edge of the building, teetering for a second before tipping over and landing on the fire escape below.

Talia stood frozen, staring at the now empty roof for a moment, deciding between following her, or leaving Gotham with her dignity intact. She recalled the scene that Black Mask’s men had left the camp in – the blood, and the shipments of medical supplies on the ground – and her resolve hardened.

She followed Catwoman down the building.

There was no one else in the little alley when Talia touched down on the ground. She walked towards the street, emerging just in time to see Catwoman slide into the driver’s seat of a car that looked like it hadn’t moved in weeks. Inside the car, Catwoman was fussing with exposed wires under the steering wheel.

Talia opened the door and sat in the passenger seat, wrinkling her nose and the overwhelming smell of old, stale coffee.

The engine started, stuttered, and roared to life. “Oh good, it has gas,” Catwoman said, putting it in drive and pulling into the street.

“Where are we going,” Talia said tersely.

“Oh _relax_ ,” she said, gunning the acceleration. All of Catwoman’s sudden intensity from the rooftop had disappeared, and Talia felt like she had whiplash again. “It’s like you don’t trust me! We just have a quick stop to make, then we can find where Mask is.”

Talia clenched her jaw against the angry retort she wanted to say – it wasn’t worth it to sink to her level. She wanted to insist on going straight to find Black Mask, but she wasn’t in a position to make demands. As long as Catwoman was helping, she just had to bear it.

The rest of the drive passed in stony silence.

They pulled to a stop next to an decrepit apartment building, underneath a street light that looked like it hadn’t worked in years.

“First stop,” Catwoman said, putting the car in park.

Talia didn’t say anything. There were a million things she wanted to ask, but she was so tired of asking questions.

Catwoman took off her cowl, putting the helmet on the dashboard. Her hair was short, Talia noted, and pressed awkwardly against her head where the helmet had sat.

“If we’re going after Black Mask, I need to pick up a few supplies first. There’s a safe house here,” she said, turning to look at Talia.

The helmet had been tight enough to leave faint impression lines on her face where the material sat. It reminded her of the lines that were left on Bruce’s face, under the mask.

“Fine,” Talia said with a growl, and got out of the car.

She followed Catowman over to one of the windows on the first floor. Or, it used to be a window, but a piece of wood covered it, and had for some time, based on the layers of grime and wear on it. Undeterred, Catwoman walked up to it and started fiddling with something Taliacouldn’t see.

“You have to break in if your own safe house?” Talia said flatly after a minute.

Catwoman turned and looked at her over her shoulder, and pulled the wooden board open. It must have been on hidden hinges.

“After you.”

The room was dark, but there was just enough light spilling in from the streetlight outside to light up the wall opposite to the window. There was hardly any furniture in the small room, just a small couch in the middle and some drawers. More interesting were the tables that lined the room.

She walked over to one as Catwoman slipped in the room behind her. Carefully propped up on the table were several familiar masks and helmets. Next to those were replacement pieces for armour – wrist guards and shoulder pads, among others Talia couldn’t name immediately.

She reach out, trailing her fingers along the empty cowl in front of her. It looked strange, sitting on the table instead of on Bruce’s head.

She tore her eyes away, looking around the room now that her eyes had adjusted more. There were two large first aid kits on another – fully stocked, if she knew the man who had put them here at all – and spare capes, both large and small hanging from the wall.

There was a sudden bang behind her. Talia spun around, her hand going to the handle of her sword automatically.

Catwoman was sitting on the floor, next to an upended floorboard. As Talia watched, she reached into the hole, pulled out a folded bundle and shook it out.

It a bag with one long strap. Catwoman glanced inside it, checking something, before slipping it over her shoulder.

“We came all this way for you to accessorize?” Talia raised an eyebrow.

“The bag is critical,” Catwoman said absentmindedly. She put the floorboard back into place, and stood up, heading towards a dresser. She started opening and closing drawers, seemingly at random, looking for something.

A thought struck Talia. “This isn’t your safe house. It’s _his_. He doesn’t know you use it.” She didn’t know why it had taken her so long to realize it.

“My stuff is here, so it’s my safe house too,” Catwoman snapped, not looking at her. Talia smiled behind her back, at finally finding a nerve. And it was nice to have some proof that there was still something that Bruce kept separate from the other woman.

“Gotcha,” Catwoman muttered. Talia could just barely make out her stuffing a handful of bills in the bag.

“I knew you’re a thief, but do you really have so little money that you have to steal from Batman’s drawers?” Talia asked. Some small part of her recognized that she was lashing out and pushing her advantage. Being in a room that was full of Bruce’s things without him was surprisingly grating.

“He won’t miss it,” Catwoman sneered. “You’d know about that kinda money, right princess?”

Blood roared in Talia’s ears, and before she could stop herself she spoke. “Stop calling me that.”

“Would you rather me call you _Talia_?”

“Only if I can call you Selina Kyle,” she said coldly.

Silence fell over the room. For a moment, Talia felt a twinge of remorse – she knew how seriously people took their ridiculous costumes and code names in Gotham. As frustrated as she was, she still needed Catwoman’s help to find Black Mask, and didn’t want to burn this particular bridge too early.

However, Catwoman didn’t look terribly surprised at the use of her civilian name – only narrowing her eyes and baring her teeth in a parody of a smile.

“Well, aren't you quite the detective,” Catwoman finally said. She pushed past her and gracefully left through the window.

For a moment, Talia stood alone in the empty room. She looked down one last time at the empty cowl on the table before following her out through the window.

To her surprise, she was still waiting for her outside.

“There’s a diner,” Catwoman said shortly, re-engaging a locking mechanism of the warehouse window behind her, “Just around the corner. There's someone there who’ll know where Sionis has been hiding recently.”

The streets were quiet, but not deserted, despite the dark sky. People milled about around outside the apartment buildings, walking around outside of the restaurants that dotted the far side of the street.

The tension that had started in Bruce’s safehouse had followed them outside – Catwoman was moving more abruptly, different than the smooth glide she’d had before.

They walked down the street to a quiet area, with so many weathered fliers taped to the window that Talia couldn’t see inside. There were no people hanging around outside in this area.

Catwoman stopped in front of her, and looked over her shoulder. “When we go in here, just don’t talk. Don’t say anything.”

Heat flushed through her chest, again threatening to slip through her careful control again. “I am not agreeing to that,” she said flatly.

“Just don’t fuck it up. These are _my_ contacts in _my_ city, and I’m helping _you_ out,” Catwoman paused, “And I promise that they won’t care one bit what league you come from, or who your demon daddy is,” she spat. She spun on her heel and wrenched open the door to the restaurant, walking inside.

Talia was rooted to the spot. She had not come all the way to this hellhole of a city to be insulted and belittled by some _common thief_.

The disrespect needled her, boiled in her blood, and it felt like the only way to keep from imploding was to howl and spit at the world. As if Catwoman wasn’t clearly serving her own, self-serving purpose by finding Black Mask, as if Ra’s had anything to do with why she was in Gotham.

While she was drowning in her rage, she took a moment to savour the bitterness that coated the back of her mouth from the poison that she wanted to spit at Bruce for not being around the night she needed him.

She took a breath, and then another. The flames in her chest flickered and cooled to something she could manage, and she followed Catwoman inside.

The room inside was strangely lit, with different types of light bulbs casting odd shadows off the walls. Old pictures and outdated wallpaper decorated the walls. Right in front of her was a traditional bar; off to her left was what looked like a dining area. Catwoman was sitting on a barstool, waving to get the bartender’s attention.

“Rosey!” Catwoman called. The bartender looked over, recognition sparking in her eyes. She was a tall woman – or was wearing big heals – with heavy eye makeup and blonde hair in a high ponytail on the top of her head.

“Cat. Haven’t seen you around in a while. What do you need?” the woman – Rosie – had a low, inflectionless voice.

“Is Jewel around?”

Rosie shook her head. “She’s downtown tonight.”

“Shit,” Catwoman muttered, slumping onto the bar table, “Is Oscar here at least?” she asked after a pause. 

“Yeah, he’s at his regular booth in the dining area. Want me to tell him you’re coming?”

Catwoman straightened up and got off the stool. “That’s alright, I’ll just go surprise him.”

She didn’t meet Talia’s eye as she passed her, heading into the dining area. The room was lined by dated, cushy chairs and wooden tables. Despite the activity on the road outside, it was mostly empty, with just a few tables occupied.

In the booth at the far end of the room there was a man – white-skinned, with slicked black hair – nursing a beer, and Catwoman made a beeline to him. Talia hung back a moment, evaluating. Between the table and his leather jacket, she couldn’t tell if he had any weapons on him.

“Oscar,” Catwoman greeted him, sliding into the booth in front of the man. Talia stayed standing.

“Cat! Haven’t seen you in a while,” the man said. His voice dripped with false sincerity. If he was surprised to see Catwoman, he didn’t show it. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, looking Talia up and down. She narrowed her eyes.

“Just an acquaintance,” Catwoman said smoothly, batting her eyelashes and smiling so Oscar looked back to her, “I’m actually here to ask you something.”

“Ask away sweetie,” Oscar said, leaning back and taking a swig of his beer.

“You know where _all_ the big guns are in Gotham, and I’m looking for someone.” Her voice dripped in flattery, and Talia shot her a look. “Where can we find Black Mask?”

Oscar froze for a moment, all his lackadaisical attitude gone in a moment.

“You girls trying to die?” he scoffed, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table, clearly on edge. Talia smirked. It was always amazing how fast men like this transformed. All their confidence and swagger disappeared as soon as someone more powerful came out to play.

“No,” Catwoman said with a sweet smile, “We just want to talk to him.” Talia wondered if Oscar could see the sharp edge underneath her smile. She doubted it.

“Still sounds like you’re trying to die. No way. No, I don’t want any part in whatever this is. I don’t even know where he is! He’s not an easy man to find these days, you know,” he waved his hand dismissively.

For a moment, Talia considered drawing her sword. The seat Oscar had chosen, while it let him overlook the whole dining area, had left him cornered – he’d have nowhere to go, and if he had any bodyguards with him, they were too far away to do anything about it. She’d was certain that the instant any real danger presented itself, his goading, confident persona would shrivel up, and he would tell them what he actually knew about Black Mask.

She looked down and caught some motion in the corner of her eye. Selina had turned her head and was looking up at her. Catwoman shook her head, ever so slightly, pursing her lips and looking deadly serious.

Talia looked away, biting the inside of her lip. Fine, she would hold back her pride for a little while longer, try it her way. She took a deep breath, focusing on something else. A few tables away, the bartender from out front, Rosie, was wiping down a table.

“I really didn’t want to do this,” Catwoman said, looking back at Oscar, and she genuinely sounded regretful, almost whiny in tone, “but we _really_ need to see Black Mask.”

“Nothing I can do.”

Catwoman froze for a second, and cocked her head. She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table.

“Oscar,” and her voice was different _again_ , harder with an edge, “You owe me a favour, and I’m calling it in. I _know_ that you know where he is.”

Talia looked back and forth between them – the air had thickened into something tense and crackling.

“Really?” he said, his face had fallen into something meek and pathetic.

Catwoman reached into her bag and pulled out a wad of cash, holding it in her hand.

“A little on top for a bonus. Now let’s hear it.” Catwoman was strict now, with a voice as hard as ice. As much as she was loath to admit it, Talia couldn’t help but be impressed at the apparent ease Catwoman could take on different roles as the situation called for it.

She’d started as an annoying brat on the rooftop, goading and taunting. Then there had been a sliver of real intensity when she had agreed to help find Black Mask, but that had quickly dissolved into someone cruel and callous in the safe house. Her range was disturbing, mostly because Talia had no idea which of them, if any, were genuine.

“Black Mask has taken to staying in the big Janus Cosmetics building in the evenings,” Oscar finally said, sounding like the words hurt to say.

“The one in the Diamond District?” Catwoman clarified. Oscar nodded. “Hiding in plain sight huh. What floor is he on?”

“I don’t know,” he said, looking away.

“Oh, come on,” Catwoman snapped, “That building has like fifty fucking floors. You have no idea where in the building he is?”

Oscar sighed. “I think somewhere on the middle floors. Around twenty maybe? I don’t know, I swear.”

Silence fell over the table, and Talia stared at them. She didn’t believe that the man was telling the truth, but she equally couldn’t predict if Catwoman was going to push him farther. She didn’t move from her position next to the table, ready to react if either one of them shifted.

Catwoman blew out a loud breath through her lips. She slid the wad of money across the table. “Fine. Thanks Oscar, keep the change.” She stood up, meeting Talia’s eyes and nodding slightly.

“Be careful Cat,” Oscar said, quickly grabbing the money from the table. He was slumped over the table, not trying to hide his relief.

Talia moved out of the way to let Catwoman pass, and followed behind her.

“We’ll just start at floor twenty and work up,” Catwoman muttered, “That’s as much as we were going to get out of him.” Talia didn’t say anything.

They walked through the dining room, back towards the bar, which Rosie had returned to wiping down aimlessly.

“Cat, hold up,” she said. They paused.

“I overheard that you’re looking for Black Mask.”

Talia bristled. She had suspected that the other woman had maybe been eavesdropping, but she was alarmed how easily she admitted it. The whole reason that she had allowed Catwoman to help her in the first place was to avoid all of Gotham hearing that she was looking for Black Mask!

“Why do you care?” Talia demanded.

“What’d you hear Rosie?” Catwoman asked, ignoring her.

“Did Oscar tell you where he is?” Rosie was speaking quietly, they had to lean in to hear her.

“He told us which building, but not the floor.”

“Yeah, he’s a piece of shit,” Rosie shrugged, “Rumour is Mask is on twenty six. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Catwoman cackled, and the sudden sound almost made Talia jump.

“You’re a gem Rosie.” Catwoman reached into her bag and passed her a few bills. “Tip your waitresses and all that,” she said with a smirk and wink.

Rosie tucked the bills into her shirt, smiling for the first time.

“Cheers to that. Have fun girls.”

The walk back to the car was quiet, though not quite as tense. People were still bustling around, but night had well and truly fallen. The only light came from the streetlights and light that spilled out from inside the buildings – the city smog blocked out any light from the stars. Automatically, she performed the familiar calculation in her head; Damian should have finished breakfast now, heading to study with the tutors.

The car, to Talia’s mild surprise, was still where they had parked it, and she climbed into the passenger seat. Catwoman put her helmet back on, disappearing behind the red lenses, before putting the car in gear and driving off.

“How far is it to the building?” Talia asked.

“Normally? 40 minutes. With no traffic at this time of night, like 15.”

“Good,” Talia said, slightly relieved. As much as she knew about the notable people in Gotham, she was mostly unfamiliar with its geography, and the prospect of a long awkward drive was not pleasant. There just wasn’t a need to know Gotham’s details, since there was usually very little League business here.

The next few street lights passed quietly, but despite herself Talia wanted to keep talking, gathering intel. This part was actually familiar – these days, she usually had to interrogate Bruce for every detail he was willing to give up.

“Do you trust Oscar’s information?” she finally asked over the noise of the engine. It wasn’t so much that she thought he might double-cross them then that she thought he just might be wrong.

“To be honest, he’s a complete asshole. But in this case yes, I trust him,” Catwoman said, not looking away from the road. “And he’ll keep his mouth shut.”

“But we just paid him to open his mouth,” Talia pointed out.

Catwoman paused. “OK, good point. But I paid him with a _favour_ , and that’s more valuable. The money is just to keep him happy.”

Talia fell quiet again, contemplating. Catwoman seemed much happier now that they had a location, but she was battling her desire to know more against not wanting to tempt Catwoman into another tantrum.

Her desire won.

“If it’s so easy to find Black Mask –”

“Easy?” Catwoman interrupted. “You’re not the one down a favour and five grand.”

Talia wanted to point out that it wasn’t her money she has spent, but refrained.

“If it is so relatively easy to find him,” she corrected herself, “then why doesn’t Batman just go and stop him? Arrest him?”

Catwoman stopped at the red light and turned and looked at Talia for the first time since they got in the car.

“You really don’t know anything about Gotham, do you,” she asked with a smug smirk. This time Talia recognized the power play, and easily pushed down her irritation at the reminder. Catwoman continued.

“Even if it was as easy as just removing one of the big gangsters from the scene, there are lots of others who would kill to fill his place. And that leads to gang fights, which leads to more weapons and drugs being moved around, which leads to _other_ rogues taking advantage of the chaos...” she trailed off. “Gotham needs a bit more nuance than _take out the bad guy_.”

The light turned green and they drove off. Talia supposed the explanation made sense; she’d had plenty had missions and objectives that had to be treated delicately. But she couldn’t shake the idea that if Batman, or anyone really, gave these gangsters a real reason to be scared of doing crime in Gotham, then the situation might not escalate.

Men tended to think twice when it was their lives on the line. Would there be people waiting in the works if they thought moving up might cost them their life?

She looked over at Catwoman. _She_ probably never had fights with Bruce about the morality of necessary killing. This woman understood his city, knew the ins and outs of it, and so she understood him. And Talia, for all she had tried, had never been able to understand Bruce’s commitment to this doomed city.

She sighed, pushing the childish musings aside.

The mission. She was here for the mission. And then as soon as it was done, she could leave this awful city and this woman alone.

“Does Black Mask have guards?” she asked.

Catwoman blew out a breath. “Yeah, at least a few. And he’s rich enough that they’re all trained. Most are probably ex-military. But he’ll be armed too.”

“Can he handle his weapons?” It was a coin flip whether a powerful man would actually know how to use the weapons he carried with him. It was more dangerous if they didn’t know how to handle their gun of choice – more unpredictable. Why some people thought it was the weapon, and not the training, that would protect them Talia would never know.

“Oh yes,” Catwoman said darkly, fists clenching on the steering wheel. “He’s very hands-on. Expect him to have at least a gun on him.”

Talia turned and looks at her, concerned with the anger in her voice. She knew that Catwoman had her own motivations for helping her find Black Mask that weren’t based on altruism, but she considered for the first time that it could interfere with her own mission.

It was too late to reconsider now. Talia would have to deal with that if it happened.

The rest of the drive passed in silence. Talia took deep breaths, letting the anticipation of the upcoming conflict with Black Mask settle in her muscles. After so many years, the feeling before a mission was familiar as breathing, the way her heart beat faster, how adrenaline tasted in the back of her throat. She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword.

They smoothly pulled into a parking spot on the street. Despite the late hour, there was a surprising number of cars lining the street.

Catwoman checked her bag again before getting out of the car, and Talia resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and followed her out.

“See big ugly up there?” Catwoman asked, pointing and one of the buildings ahead of them, maybe two blocks away. “That’s where we’re going.”

She turned to look at her, a fierce smile on her face made more intense the shadows underneath her helmet.

Talia looked past her, up at the building. She thought about the nerve of Black Mask, remembering the state of the town when she’d gone to investigate. How their they had told them that men who answered to Black Mask had arrived, had rummaged through and ruined the supply of medical equipment the League had paid for. They’d fought them off, and Talia herself had already arranged for another shipment, but Roman Sionis needed to learn not to interfere with League business.

She met Catwoman’s smile with one of her own.

“Let’s go then.”


	2. Selina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some illusion to when Black Mask tortured Maggie Kyle and her husband, but it is non graphic and brief.

Breaking and entering with one of Bruce’s ex-girlfriends was _not_ how Selina had planned to spend her evening.

“How are we getting in the building?” Talia asked, and Selina resisted the urge to sigh. The people she normally worked with didn’t ask so many questions.

“Well, unless you have some fancy assassin master key –”

“What are you talking about?”

“– then we’ll probably need a fire door.”

She could practically feel the eye-roll from the woman in front of her.

It was worth at least asking if Talia had a way into the building – sometimes Bruce hacked into target sites before going there. Selina had once spent almost five minutes trying to break into an unlocked door. He still brought it up when he wanted to tease her.

Selina kept watch of the few people on the sidewalk, watched as they looked at Talia and her, before skirting away. Whether she intended to or not, the assassin stood out in a crowd. It was how Selina had noticed her in the first place.

From there it had been a lucky glimpse of the curved sword from between the folds of her clothes in the alley. The League of Assassins may not be active in Gotham anymore, but there were only so many people would carry a sword around.

Selina might have rethought her approach if she knew it was _Talia al Ghul_ she had followed through Gotham.

It had taken a lot of needling on her part to even get Bruce to tell her about his ex’s. So when he told her that Talia was a the daughter of the basically-immortal leader of the League of Assassins, a master assassin herself, and had trained Bruce at some point…

She may have been a _little_ jealous.

Selina probably could have kept it under wraps, settled for just annoying the other woman for the night.

But then Talia had let slip that her target for that night was Black Mask.

His name never failed to make her blood boil.

She could easily remember that night, all these years later. Remember the look on Maggie’s face when she’d found her, the state that he’d left her husband in, and all of the blood. Selina had had to throw out the suit that she wore that night. Maggie was doing a bit better now, but Selina would always feel guilty.

She’d had her revenge that night, and a few times since then, but it would never really be enough.

Roman Sionis was usually a difficult man to go after, at least without bringing down a lot of heat. But whatever reason had brought Talia al Ghul to Gotham had to be a big one, something that would overshadow whatever Selina might do to him. And beyond that, tension and conflicts had been increasing between Black Mask and Penguin, threatening to turn into a serious territory dispute. And if you believed the rumours on the streets, Penguin was after one of Mask’s more popular clubs.

Between an impending gang war, and a literal assassin looking to find him, now was an awfully convenient time to strike.

Sionis would, hopefully, be more preoccupied with whatever had pissed off Talia and with Penguin, to seriously come back after Selina.

So, back on the roof with Talia, she’d decided to seize the opportunity.

It would make her feel better, to take another chance to pay him back for all the hurt he had caused her and her family.

It was even worth putting up with her boyfriend’s snotty ex.

Well. Boyfriend might not be the right word. They _had_ been dating, but they’d fought before he left on his mission, and she couldn’t even remember now what the fight had been about in the first place. She wasn’t entirely sure they’d still be dating when he got back.

She shook herself out of her thoughts. They turned the corner of the building, heading towards the back in search of their way in. Normally she would have had all this – entry, exit, defensive intel – all planned out days in advance, but their timeline made that impossible, so Selina had to think on the fly.

The Janus Cosmetic’s building had changed hands half a dozen times over the years, and had most recently been bought by Sionis himself when he’d reclaimed his parent’s old company. Like most of the other buildings in the Diamond District, the buildings were more glass and steel than the brick and arches of older parts of Gotham. It made a quick escape more difficult – fewer fire escapes or balconies to use.

But Janus Cosmetics wasn’t exactly prime real estate, and being on the outskirts of the business zone meant that it was circled on several sides by smaller buildings. If Mask’s office faced towards the East or North– which would give the nicest views – there would be a smaller rooftop to jump onto below, if a getaway was needed.

If there was one thing Selina knew by now, having a plan to get out of a situation was more important than having a plan for getting into one.

“Oh finally!” Selina walked up to the emergency fire door. She reached into her bag and rummaged through it, looking for the right tool.

Thank goodness Talia hadn’t put up a fuss about her getting her bag from the safe house. She kept her more specialized tools in them, besides the general lock-picks and screwdrivers she kept in her thigh pocket. Besides that, she needed a way to safely carry whatever she took from Sionis’s office.

When she was starting out her career, making her getaway from an jewelry heist, the necklace she had stolen had fallen out of her bag while she was jumping over the rooftops. You only make that kind of mistake once. Now she had a collection of bags stashed around the city like the one she had now – equipped with magnetic claps in the opening that when activated would seal shut until she got to her apartment with the magnetic key.

She pulled out the device, the plastic box and attached wire hanging from it. After checking the alley one last time, stuck the electrode carefully on the door handle, holding the remote in her hand.

“You’re blowing up the door?” Talia asked. Selina looked over her shoulder at her, surprised by the apprehension in her voice.

“Um, no? It’s locked from the outside. I could try to force it open, but that’ll trigger the fire alarm, so I gotta fry all the circuits quickly so the alarm doesn’t go off. It should unlock the door too.” Hopefully. If not she might actually have to blow up the door.

This really wasn’t her favourite way to break in, leaving an obvious point of entry, but it was effective in a pinch.

Selina stepped back from the door, and pushed the button to turn the voltage on. She heard the device hum, then the sharp crackles of the delicate wires inside the door mechanism overloading and sparking into uselessness.

She pushed the button again to turn it off, pulled the wire from the door handle and put the device back in her bag. She turned around, leaning on the building next to the door, looking at Talia.

“After you,” she said with a grin.

Talia grabbed the door handle – she wasn’t even wearing gloves. Selina was sure that her fingerprints weren’t in any database, but it was the _principle._

Inside the door was a long, plain hallway, with white ceilings that were washed out in the fluorescent lights, making the whole room blend together. Through the lenses in her goggles, they looked slightly pink. At the far end, there was a link to another hallway.

Without a word, they started walking. Talia checked both entrances at the mouth of the hallway.

“Which way?” she asked, voice hushed.

Selina paused, situating herself. They were on the first floor which meant there was probably be some form of lobby off the main road entrance, which would be to their left.

“Go right,” Selina decided. It would take them away from the lobby, hopefully towards a stairwell.

The nighttime hour meant the building, or at least this floor, was mostly empty of people. They only had to pause once in an intersection to let a janitor pass by. She let Talia walk in front, content to watch their backs for now.

It had been some time since Selina had gone on a heist with someone she didn’t trust – she either worked alone or with someone who wouldn’t mess it up. She wasn’t concerned that Talia would be sloppy – she had seemed _quite_ competent with her sword when she had held it to Selina’s neck.

But at some point they were bound to run into some guards, and though Selina could more than handle any of the untrained henchmen that some of the rogues were so fond of, she was less confident about dealing with Mask’s trained goons. And now that Selina had done her part in getting them into the building, she wasn’t confident that Talia would care much if she got shot. She might even prefer it.

She was a good fighter, but her whole shtick was _not_ being caught or seen, to avoid fights altogether. Bruce understood that. It’s not like he went into every encounter looking to bust some heads. But if she was going to be in a fight, she’d rather him be around. He orchestrated fights just by being in them, moving the fighters into positions that made takedowns easier without them even knowing.

Ugh, being around Talia was making her think of Bruce, which was the last thing she wanted to be doing.

She flexed her fingers in her gloves, feeling the blades slide smoothly into claws and back again.

Finally they reached the far end of the building. The hallway widened, with an elevator on the right and a door on the left.

Selina walked over the door and quickly checked through the small window.

“Elevator would be faster,” Talia pointed out as they approached the doors.

Selina shook her head. “Not worth it. It’s bound to have a camera in it, and it’ll be tricky to disable without also disabling the elevator. Better to leg it.”

“You want us to walk up twenty six flights of stairs?” Talia asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that a problem?”

“No.”

“Just think of it as your cardio for the day,” Selina paused. “Do assassins do cardio?”

“Just go,” Talia said, annoyingly refusing to rise to Selina’s bait. For a second it reminded her of Bruce’s stoic response to her teasing, and she repressed a frown.

The stairwell inside looked like the hallway had outside – plain white walls, but with grey stairs that led up. The door behind her had the number _1_ painted on it.

Twenty six to go.

They started walking up the stairs, checking each blind corner as they winded their way up the building. Selina led, keeping her claws out as she looked up and down each turn as they climbed.

They made it up a few flights of stairs before the thick silence got to her.

“Alright I’m curious. How do you know so little about breaking into buildings?” The fire escape, the elevator – she would have thought the assassin would know more about breaking and entering.

Talia narrowed her eyes, contemplating, before finally answering. “With as many contacts as the League has, we rarely need to break in – we just arrange a meeting. If we do need a way in, there are plenty of agents more than capable.”

“But not you?”

“I’m more of a fighter,” Talia said with a smile that was all teeth and threat.

“Figures,” Selina said quietly. The princess was to busy learning sword tricks to learn how to break in, she had other people lay out the red carpet for her.

She pushed the bitter thought aside.

“But you don’t have the contacts in Gotham.”

“No, not in Gotham,” Talia echoed.

Their light footfalls were the only sound in the stairwell, for a moment. They passed the door to floor eleven.

“Gotham must be a pretty dangerous place for you then, with no intel and no contacts,” Selina finally said.

“It’s not,” Talia said shortly, “Unknown territory yes, but no more dangerous than any other place.”

Selina scoffed under her breath. Talia was wrong about that – Gotham was a dangerous place for everyone, especially for people meddling in games when they didn’t know all the players, and thinking otherwise just revealed dangerous overconfidence.

She’d met a few people with similar mindsets before, usually international smugglers or the like, who had been successful in other places and thought they could just expand their services into Gotham. But the city had its own rules and hierarchy, and it wasn’t uncommon for someone new to try to push shit on someone else’s territory and get a bullet in their back.

Selina spent years building up her network and keeping up to date on what was happening in Gotham, so that when she did step on people’s toes, she was doing so intentionally.

They turned the corner to go when Selina looked up and grabbed Talia by the forearm, dragging her back down the stairs and kneeling on the ground.

“What?” Talia hissed, one hand holding the hilt of her sword.

“Camera,” Selina whispered. She was certain they hadn’t passed any other cameras on the way up – she had been looking for them. She swung her bag to her front and started rummaging through it.

“Do you think it saw us?”

“Depends on if Black Mask has someone actively watching the feed.” He had no reason to expect _them_ coming tonight, but he might have ramped up his security if he thought Penguin might make a move.

Which would be stupid, because Cobblepot would never do something as reckless as what Selina was doing now.

She pulled out the device from the side packet in her bag – the fine web of wires was too fragile to just be thrown in with the rest.

“Can’t you just disable it like the door?”

“Sort of. I can’t just turn them off, someone will definitely notice that. But this,” she held up the web, “will send an electrical pulse to reset all the cameras. It’ll loop the footage from the last hour over again.”

“That won’t help us if they already saw us on the camera,” Talia said.

“No,” Selina admitted, “But it’ll hide where we are if they start to look.” It would have to be good enough – they were already here.

She scooted herself closer to the edge of the camera’s blind spot. She fiddled with the wire web one last time, fixing it’s position in her hand. With a practiced motion she turned the corner just enough to give her enough room to throw, and tossed the web of wires towards the camera.

She ducked back around the corner, giving the device a second to turn on before standing up. Her shot had covered the camera perfectly. She took a running jump towards the corner, pushing off of one wall and grabbing the wire from off the camera.

It was _expensive_ , she wasn’t going to leave it for a janitor to find in two weeks.

Talia followed her out. She had drawn her sword, it rested casually against her side.

“This is the sixteenth floor. Maybe Black Mask only puts cameras on the floors around his office?”

“Maybe.” She shook out her calves – she was starting to feel the climb in her muscles. A voice in the back of her mind pointed out that this was another advantage any guard would have, but she pushed it aside.

They started climbing again, much more tense than before. Selina pulled out her whip, letting the end trail behind her. Anticipation settled into her body, she could feel her own pulse, and each noise seemed louder.

They had just passed the door that said _25_ when Talia stopped in front of her.

“What?” Selina whispered, but even as she said it she heard the footsteps coming from above.

She froze. They were getting closer, coming down the stairs.

The first man stepped down onto the landing and Talia was on him in an instant. She slammed into him, forcing him into the corner. Selina only got a glimpse of his face before Talia blocked her view, but he looked surprised.

Another man followed him down the stairs, gun already in his hand. He started to raise it when Selina lunged, hand outstretched, and caught his forearm with her claws. He opened his mouth to yell, but her elbow hit him square in the jaw before he could make a sound, and he dropped to the floor.

She turned and looked up the stairs. There was one guard left, who hadn’t reacted as fast as the others, and was only now reaching for his gun. Selina flicked her wrist and her whip snapped forward, wrapping around his leg. She pulled as hard as she could and the man slipped, falling down the stairs. He landed in a pile at her feet.

She turned around. Talia had the first guard pinned against the wall, her sword to his throat.

“How many other guards are there?” she snarled.

“I’m not telling you shit,” he spat.

She moved so fast that Selina couldn’t make out what she did, but the man dropped to the ground, unconscious.

“It was worth a try,” Talia said, turning to look at Selina. “Do you think there are more?”

“For sure, this was just a patrol group. They weren’t expecting us."

They paused, lapsing into silence.

“Time to keep climbing.”

They left the guards unconscious on the stairs when they started climbing. Talia stalked up the stairs, Selina following in behind.

They hadn’t gone very far when Talia stopped again. “Something is wrong. Door twenty six should be here.”

Selina peered around her at the blank wall. “It must a private-access only floor,” she said slowly, thinking. “Probably can only get to it by a personal elevator.”

“But what floor is the elevator on?” Talia asked, “Where the guards came out?”

“Best place to start.”

They walked back down to the floor, stepping over the men. Selina opened door _25_ slowly, looking both ways carefully.

She stepped forward, letting Talia follow behind her. The door opened into what looked like a typical office building, complete with cubicles that made a maize through the room. If there was anyone still working, she couldn’t see them, but there was no guards walking around. On the far side of the room, a plain white wall divided the cubicles from the rest of the floor.

“We’ll look on the other side of the cubicles first,” said Selina. It was the most obvious place she could think to put the elevator.

Talia didn’t say anything, but started to move, ducking and moving behind the desks silently. She moved gracefully, unhindered by her height and the sword at her side, darting around the room.

Selina followed behind her, rolling between the aisles and checking for guards. She wished again that this wasn’t a rushed job – who knew what plans and contacts were stashed away here.

She joined Talia on the other side of the wall. Selina smiled – the doors to an elevator were there.

“It needs a keycard,” she said, walking over to it. “I can get into it, but it’d be easier if we could find a card someone left on their desk. I’ll start here while you go look.”

“Fine.” Talia turned and silently walked towards the cubicles. Selina watched her go. It was strange when someone other than Bruce or one of his kids moved silently like that. She crouched down next to the key pass to start working on it, in case they were unlucky and no one was sloppy enough to leave their pass out.

Things happened very quickly.

The elevator dinged, and the doors started to slide open. It took her one second to realize what was happening, to curse herself for not considering the elevator might be in use. In the next second she realized that there wasn’t enough time for her to hide.

She threw herself backwards anyway, on the off chance the person in the elevator looked the other way first.

“Freeze! Hands up!”

Grimacing, Selina put her hands up, palms facing forward, heart falling through her chest. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for anything that would help her, but there was nothing. The man sneered as they looked at each other, his gun raised between them.

“Kitty-cat? We weren’t expecting you,” he crooned, and she felt sick, “There’s no orders to bring you in, but I bet the boss will be happy anyway.”

He started to move towards her and Selina tensed her muscles, ready to fight when he got within range, and hope he wasn’t expecting it.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, and shifted to a spot over Selina’s left shoulder. His gun trailed up, following his gaze.

At his distraction she kicked out, connecting with his leg. He roared, dropping to one knee, but he kept his gun up. He pivoted, training his gun on Selina again.

There was a blur of motion at Selina’s side, and Talia flew in from the side. She was on him before he could react. She grabbed his gun-arm, wrenching it around and sending the gun skittering across the floor. She jabbed him in the neck, and he collapsed on the floor.

In the sudden absence of noise Selina could hear her heartbeat pounding against her chest. Once, twice, before she realized she hadn’t taken a breath, and gasped in some air.

That had been too close.

She stood up. Talia was kneeling next to the guard’s unconscious body, grabbing at his clothes. She looked up at Selina.

“I found a keycard,” Talia said, casually, pulling the offending card from the man’s pocket.

Selina allowed herself one more breath to steady her nerves, pushing any lingering fear aside. She would deal with the fallout from that later, when she was safe back at her place. Until then, her job wasn’t finished. She picked up her whip from the floor.

Talia swiped the card and the doors opened.

“Going up,” Selina said, pushing the button that read _26_. She’d been right – this elevator was the only access to the floor Sionis was on.

There was no one waiting for them when the doors opened up, and the small room it opened to was empty.

They set off slowly, on alert for anyone else, but the halls were deserted. The floor was a maze of hallways and blind corners they checked before proceeding.

Eventually they reached an opening to a larger room, with a large reception desk in the middle. There was a pair of wooden doors on the other side.

“I bet that’s Black Mask’s office,” Selina said, gesturing to the grand wood doors. And she had been right – a window in that room would have a good view facing East.

She walked carefully over to the security panel on the side of the door. Black Mask hadn’t upgraded to a fingerprint scanner, which made her job easier. She took out a screwdriver from her pocket and started taking out the screws of the casing. Talia stood behind her, waiting.

The plastic outer case popped off easily, giving her access to the wiring and circuits. Most of it looked like a classic pin-code lock, but one wire trailed off, connecting back into the wall, separate from the others. There were only a few reasons why an alarm system would connect into the office directly.

“He’s got a panic button connected to the alarm system. I can open the door, but I’ll have to hang back and intercept the signal once he pushes it,” Selina said.

“Fine. Just tell me when,” Talia said shortly.

She went back to studying the wires, searching for the ones she wanted. It didn’t take long to find it, and she cut them.

“You’re good to go,” Selina said. “I’ll come in once I disable the panic button.”

Talia didn’t say anything. She drew her sword and opened the door.

“Black Mask. The League of Assassins has matters to discuss with you.”

Selina could hear a response through the door, but she couldn’t make out what he said. She focused on the LED light connected to the panic button wire. She’d have to cut the wire once he sent the signal out, to make sure it wasn’t being sent anywhere else in the building.

The doors muffled whatever conversation was happening inside, though she could make out Black Mask’s voice rising.

The emergency light winked on and Selina grinned, cutting the wire with one easy flex of her claw. She paused in front of the door for a moment, bracing herself, before pushing open the door.

“Hello Roman,” she purred.

His face fell when he recognized her, realizing that she wasn’t one of his guards here to save him. That alone almost made the whole night worth it.

He was standing behind an obnoxiously large wooden desk. Talia was next to him, on his side of the desk. There was a gun on the ground in front of Selina – Talia must have already disarmed him.

Roman Sionis looked like a typical businessman, which was to say, mostly unremarkable. Slicked back hair and an expensive suit did nothing to disguise his cruel eyes.

Looking at him, a wave of choking rage roared through her body, and her whole body shook with the urge to leap over the desk and start hitting him. She exhaled slowly, and forced the sweetest smile she could manage.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meeting,” she said, “I just have a little bit of shopping to do.” She held up her bag with one hand.

Sionis flushed with anger, bright splotches appearing on his cheeks. “I – you – you dumb _bitch_.” He had barely moved to stand up when Talia’s sword appeared, stopping him.

“That’s enough of that. Sit down,” Talia demanded. She didn’t say it harshly, just in a tone that was expected to be obeyed.

Sionis sat, chest heaving like a raging bull. “Batman won’t be happy that you’re here,” he growled.

“He doesn’t tell me what to do,” Selina said, at the same time Talia said, “I don’t answer to him.”

Their eyes met each other for a second, before Talia turned back to Sionis.

“You interfered with the League of Assassins. We are graciously giving you a chance to explain yourself. Tell me why you ordered your men to attack…”

Selina tuned them out. It was time to hunt.

If this was a normal heist, and no one else was with her, she would have started with the desk. Important documents, plans, sometimes cash. Even from her spot at the door she could see a large diamond sitting in a case on his desk, but if he was willing to have it out in the open, it obviously wasn’t worth much.

Against the right wall was a huge bookshelf, thick with generic books and bland business certificates. The actual _Black Mask_ itself was on a metal stand in the corner, the metallic black, sneering mouth seemingly looking right at her. As fun as it would be to steal, it would bring down more heat on her than she was truly looking for.

She started to walk towards the bookshelf anyway, but the sound of her footsteps walking over the rug made her pause. It was hard to tell through the rug, but it sounded like the tone shifted, like it was hollow underneath.

She reached down and pulled the rug over onto itself, grinning. The fake piece of floorboard came up easily, revealing the electronic safe beneath it.

“Well hello,” she said quietly. There were two main components facing up, the left being a regular combination dial, while the right looked like a keypad with all the numbers removed.

“Be careful with that!”

She looked up. Black Mask was snarling at her over the desk.

“That safe is armed! If you open it without the right code, it’ll blow us all up!” From her spot on the floor, Selina saw Talia’s eyes widen slightly.

“No it’s won’t,” Selina said calmly.

“You stupid whore, you’ll kill us!”

“No,” she repeated, cold now. “We’re not blowing up because _there is no bomb_. You never armed it. It would go here.” She gestured to the side of the safe, pushed flush against the nook in the floor.

“How the hell are you so certain?” he asked.

She pivoted on her heels to face the desk. Talia looked bored, but Black Mask was furious.

“You bought the blueprints for this safe from Two-Face. There are two locking mechanisms, and if you don’t crack one within thirty seconds of the other, it blows up.” As she spoke, she took out the same electric tool from the fire door. She put the node on the corner of the metal plating that was foolishly connected to the wires underneath.

“But the problem is,” she pushed the button and fried it, easily popping the casing off, “while an undeniably bitching idea, the engineer was so focused on meeting the, ah, _theme_ , that they designed a really shitty safe.”

She reached into the tangled mess of wiring between the modules, looking for the one wire that connected them for the timer, that _also_ connected to the locking mechanism. She hooked it with one claw, and pulled it up for Sionis to see, before neatly cutting through it.

“Harvey sold these plans because I cracked this safe when I stole from him ten months ago. You really should have questioned why it was on sale,” she paused, baring her teeth, “and at least Dent had the balls to arm the bomb.”

With one big yank, she opened the safe, letting the top thud on the floor. Inside was blocks of cash, stacked neatly. She reached in and pulled up two wads.

“Me- _ow_ ,” she said with a smile. She put them in her bag.

“I’LL KILL YOU,” Sionis roared. He stood up, reaching into his suit and pulling out a knife. Before Selina could react, Talia grabbed his wrist. She twisted his arm around his back while bringing her sword edge to rest against his neck. She pushed him down against the desk.

“I’m not here to kill you Sionis, but I will if you won’t cooperate. Sit _down._ ” She shoved him back into his desk chair, and Selina could see a thin line of blood on his neck where Talia’s sword had cut him. Talia stepped back again, his knife in her hand. Talia made eye contact with Selina, and she thought she saw a hint of amusement.

Selina went back to the safe. If she had to guess, she’d say there was around a hundred thousand dollars tucked away. It was hardly enough to bring down his criminal empire, but she was happy to take out his reserve emergency cash.

She stuffed the money in her bag.

She doubted that was the only hidden treasure in the office. Cash was fun and all, but it wasn’t very exciting.

“... hear about the shipment?”

“I told you lady, they were just rumours! How the fuck was I supposed to know it was just a bunch of useless medical shit?”

“Whose rumours?” Talia insisted.

Selina watched them from her location on the floor.

Talia still had her sword drawn, though it was by her side as she leaned slightly towards the chair. Sionis was gripping the arms of the chair, tension all through his forearms. Both were trying to act collected and in control, but only Talia really succeeded.

Selina walked forward, letting her claws trail lightly over the desk. She saw Sionis’ eyes dart over to her.

“Watch it! This desk is made from endangered trees in Africa! It’s worth more than your life,” he snarled. Talia’s eyes flickered and darkened for a moment.

“I doubt that,” Selina sneered. Thank goodness Ivy wasn’t around for this. She’d blow the whole operation trying to rip his tongue out if she was here to hear that.

Her eyes trailed to the wall. A large abstract painting covered the middle of the wall, a blend of screaming colours and shapes that Selina didn't care to make sense of.

She’d stolen her share of paintings, and had a working knowledge of the valuable artists, but they weren’t her favourite or her specialty. She preferred her jewels. More portable, and prettier to look at and wear.

She stepped towards the painting, searching for the signature. It was in the bottom corner, in neat black writing.

“Is this a Ventrone?” she asked, turning to look at Sionis.

“Yes, it is. I had to bribe the border into letting it in,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Selina had to hold back a laugh. Even while being robbed, he couldn’t stop himself from boasting.

“That’s a shame,” she said, feeling around the frame of the painting. It had been firmly attached to the wall with no budge. She smirked, “Because this is a fake. And not a good one either.”

“You’re lying.”

“This signature is completely wrong!” She didn’t need to be an expert to see that – it looked like someone had printed over the painting in acrylic. Honestly, why would an abstract painting with no real lines in it have a clunky, wordy signature on it?

She reached up, resting her claws near the top of the canvas and paused, savouring the moment. She pulled down, ripping the canvas in strips.

It made an _excellent_ sound. She turned over her shoulder to see how Sionis was taking it.

Maybe robbing with an audience wasn’t so bad. Talia’s face was still cool indifference, but Sionis’ face as he watched her take his money from under him? Priceless. His mouth was literally open in shocked rage that he couldn’t do anything about.

“Really, you should thank me. This was embarrassing for you,” Selina said.

She went back to the painting, shredding the canvas until pieces fell to the floor at her feet. Once most of the painting was gone, she could see the hinges along the left side. There must be some mechanism to make it swing open. Not that it really mattered, anymore.

The painting had been hiding a hole built into the wall. It wasn’t stuffed to the brim with cash like the safe, but the contents had been laid out carefully.

She picked up the two objects closest to her. They were silver watches, with watch-faces that were almost as wide as her arm. The type of watches that she saw at galas sometimes, worn by men desperate to prove their wealth in as many ways they could.

Looking closer, she saw that the edge of the watch-face had been inlaid with gems, alternating diamonds and sapphires on one, with diamonds and rubies on the other. She rolled her eyes, but put one on each wrist. They were gaudy, but still worth quite a bit, if the gemstones were real.

But the main prize was the necklace. It was a dated, old style, but the gold chain was still in good condition. She carefully picked it up with both hands. The rubies on it were _gorgeous_. There were seven of them, a truly huge one in the centre with smaller ones intricately trailing out on either side.

If she had to guess, she’s say this was a mafia treasure from one of Gotham’s crime families. The kind of jewelry they’d steal from each other, fight over in the name of their wive’s pride, only to return home to beat her later.

Selina could think of some better uses for it.

She held it up, pretending to clasp it around her neck, and turned around to show her audience.

“It’s shiny,” she purred, putting it in her bag on top of the money. A good cleaning and those jewels would be worth a lot, even the smaller ones. She shut the bag, turning the locking mechanism on. It was bulging slightly at the sides now, and pleasantly heavy with her haul.

“I—you,” Sionis spluttered, “I’ll fucking _end_ you, you worthless whore!”

“Worthless?” Selina cocked her head, holding up the now very full bag, “I think you’re a little confused. And, after tonight, do you really think you can afford to come after me _nine_ times?”

“Black Mask,” Talia interrupted, “I will only ask once more. Who told you about my shipment?”

Sionis glared, eyes darting back and for between them. On the desk, his fists clenched, before going limp.

“A man who goes by Lightning. Operates out of London,” he finally conceded. Talia stepped forward.

“Hey hey whoa, that’s all I know!” he said, his voice rising in pitch with every word.

“I believe you,” she leaned towards him. “Nevertheless, this is the last time you will interfere with the League of Assassins. Let this be a reminder.” With one sharp gesture, she raised her hand over the desk. Selina registered the flash of the knife in it she thrust downward.

Sionis screamed, body curling forward over the desk. His knife was sticking out of the desk. No, it had gone _through_ his hand. Blood pooled between his fingers as he brought his other hand around, as if to stop the pain. Selina stared at it as it started to spread, staining the desk.

“Ready to go?” Talia asked with a raised eyebrow, standing by the now-open window. Selina snapped away from the image of Sionis’ mangled hand, shaking herself out of it.

“I– Ready.”

Ignoring Sionis’ whimpering behind her, Selina pulled herself onto the windowsill – no mean feat with her full bag. The sound of the city below her rushed up to meet her, soft and muted from the height, further drowning out the noises behind her. The city seemed to stretch on forever from this height, lit up and glowing. She planted her feet against the window and leapt into the night.

She landed on the nearby roof, tucked neatly into a roll and kept running. She turned right, towards the older sections of Gotham that would provide more cover. She doubted that Sionis would gather his forces to try to hunt her down tonight, but she wanted to error on the side of caution for now.

The next few days would be the most dangerous, but if she laid low, she was confident that Penguin would come out with a move that would distract him. Sionis could try putting a more public bounty on her head, but then he would have to admit that she stole the stuff from his private office, an admission of weakness he wouldn’t want to display. Especially now.

She uncoiled her whip, and snapped her wrist, wrapping the end around one of Gotham’s gargoyles, using it to propel her forward. It had taken practise, moving between the buildings like this while carrying her treasure, but it was second nature now, to adjust her movements and momentum and keep moving.

She was a little surprised to note Talia stayed with her through her flight over the roofs. Selina thought that they would split, now that they both had what they came for. The image of the knife through his hand passed through her mind and she pushed it away.

Once she could see the edge of the coast, Selina stopped, satisfied that she was far enough separated from Sionis.

She sat on the edge of the roof, bringing her bag around to rest in her lap. Talia joined her on the edge, but stayed standing.

They were quiet for a moment, the breeze coming in over the water blowing over her face.

“What did Black Mask do to you anyway?” Selina finally asked.

“You weren’t listening?”

“Not really.”

Talia turned her gaze forward towards the water.

“His men attacked a shipment of medical supplies the League paid to have delivered. Ruined all the contents. Evidently,” she paused, a look of disgust on her face, “ _Lightning_ heard that the League was moving materials and assumed it was weapons, which is why Black Mask raided it.”

Selina smirked. Sionis must have wanted the weapons for his fight with Penguin. He would have been so disappointed to have gotten nothing from the attack, while pissing of a powerful enemy.

He must have been getting truly desperate to risk it.

They lapsed into silence again.

“Nice weather–”

“I’m leaving Gotham,” Talia interrupted, “I got what I came for.”

Selina held up her wrist – it still had one of Sionis’ watches on it. “Time to go then.”

Talia closed her eyes for a moment in clear exasperation. She started to walk away but stopped and turned around.

“Are you going to tell Batman that I was here?” she asked, almost succeeding in sounding casual.

Selina bit her lip. “I haven’t decided yet,” she said truthfully.

Talia stared at her for a beat, before finally turning away. “Fair enough.”

She hopped neatly off the side of the building, using the nearby construction scaffolding to climb down. Selina waited until she had disappeared from sight before getting up and going the opposite direction, to her apartment.

She had a lot of cash to count.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, leave a comment, and come find me on [ tumblr](http://batwayneman.tumblr.com), same username as here.


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